Fragrant
by Daenar
Summary: Harm fantasizes about Mac's middle name... ATTENTION! MUSH ALERT!!


'FRAGRANT'  
Author: Daenar Disclaimer: JAG is property of Belisarius Productions, CBS and Paramount Pictures. 'Approaching Lavender' is property of Gordon Lightfoot and Warner Bros. No copyright infringement intended.  
  
Rating: PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...) Category: Romance (H/M), Songfic  
  
Summary: Harm fantasizes about Mac's middle name...  
  
Author's note: Okay, so this is just pure, unadulterated mush. I heard this song on the way home from my office. There was no traffic, I was driving into the sunset that was painting everything a reddish gold and violet, and the harmonies just swept me away... So sue me. *g*  
  
BTW: you'll notice that in this story, there's no 'Harmon David' and 'Sarah Catherine'!  
  
If anyone would like to get a better idea about the song: here's the addy that (theoretically) should open your Media Player and let you listen to the amazon.com sound sample.  
  
- 2991328  
  
Thank you so much, Heather, for even putting up with my over-romantic antics! All remaining mistakes are mine.  
  
********************************************  
  
Sarah L. Mackenzie  
  
Two little lines, one vertical, one horizontal, meeting and connecting, forming a single letter. A letter that, just like any other, held no special meaning. For me, it was part of the alphabet and that was all.  
  
A letter that I've been fantasizing about for the last five hours. By pure chance, I noticed it when I was at her apartment for dinner. Working dinner, of course. We had a case to discuss. She was in the kitchen and had asked me to get two wine glasses from the small glass cabinet in her living- room.  
  
There was this card on the mantelpiece, standing upright on its envelope. A wedding invitation from a woman I don't know. And on the envelope, written in calligraphy, there was the 'L', surrounded by those parts of her name that I already knew and that have grown so dear to me.  
  
Sarah L. Mackenzie  
  
"My friend Francie, Major Frances Kline. I met her in OCS. She's getting married in August."  
  
I hadn't heard her coming. I jumped and turned around, finding her beaming at me, the salad bowl in her hands. That letter was dancing in front of my eyes, the question was burning on my tongue.  
  
"Oh... nice," I said instead, taking the bowl out of her hands and putting it on the table.  
  
While we were eating, Mac talked the entire time, eagerly telling me of her friend. That they'd been inseparable during their OCS time. That they'd always tried to stay in touch afterwards. That they'd somehow lost contact by the time Mac had been transferred to Falls Church. How genuinely surprised she had been when, after so many years, she'd unexpectedly found the invitation in her mailbox yesterday...  
  
I hadn't really listened.  
  
Sarah L. Mackenzie  
  
It would have been so easy to just ask her. 'Hey, Mac, you've never told me your middle name.' But then - what's ever been easy for me when she's concerned? I ate my dinner, I smiled at her tales, I even discussed the case with her later on.  
  
But part of my mind was far away.  
  
Sarah L. Mackenzie  
  
I can't ask her. She never even told me she had a middle name. Not a word in more than seven years. There has to be a reason as to why she didn't. But I can't figure out what that might be. She has to know that any name she bears will sound lovely to me.  
  
It's a warm summer night. I'm lying on my bed, staring outside at the stars. The peace of this late hour surrounds me, sweeps over me together with the soft, warm breeze. And yet, my thoughts are whirling through my head, circling around that letter, trying to figure out its secret.  
  
Liz...  
  
She's definitely just as beautiful as Liz Taylor was in her early movies. The same dark, sensual eyes.  
  
Lara...  
  
I smile to myself. Forget about Lara Croft. Mac is just as adventurous, just as strong, just as skilled. And by far more stunning.  
  
Laura...  
  
Now we're getting poetic. Francesco Petrarca, fourteenth century Italian lyricist. Laura was a woman who became his muse, his inspiration, although they never shared more than a look. Deep, passionate, platonic love. How eerily familiar.  
  
Trovommi Amor del tutto disarmato et aperta la via per gli occhi al core, che di lagrime son fatti uscio et varco.  
  
Love found me all disarmed and found the way was clear to reach my heart down through the eyes which have become the halls and doors of tears.  
  
Yet, this is not it. Sarah may be my inspiration. But Laura's not her middle name.  
  
Leah...  
  
As beautiful as it sounds to my ears - but no. Leah was Rachel's sister, Jacob's first wife. And Jacob knew that their father had given Leah to him instead of his true love because at night, he saw that Leah didn't have her sister's sparkling eyes. But the sparkle in Sarah's eyes is something that I can't escape whenever my glance meets hers.  
  
The warm air that enters through the open window is sweet and fragrant. I inhale deeply and let the air slowly stream out of my lungs. There isn't much green around where I live, but in summer, every now and then, the breeze carries a reminder of what's in full bloom elsewhere. Lilac, roses, sometimes even such exotic things as lavender for there's a flower shop next door...  
  
Lavender...  
  
As soon as the thought enters my mind, I know that it would be extremely unlikely if this was her name. I even shake my head at myself, chuckling slightly. And yet, I'm suddenly getting dizzy.  
  
I'm remembering something that has lain buried in the depths of my soul for a long time. It's a song, one of my favorites back in the seventies. Sweet times of adolescence. Young me, learning how to play the guitar and worshipping Gordon Lightfoot for what he was able to do with it.  
  
Harmonies are floating through my head as the lyrics start to rise from decades-long oblivion.  
  
And all of a sudden I see her.  
  
Sarah L. Mackenzie  
  
I'm not sure if I've fallen asleep or if I'm daydreaming, but I don't care. The image that my mind has conjured up is perfect. If I'd never wake up again, that would be just fine.  
  
We're somewhere outside, standing on a hill. Below us, vast fields of lavender stretch to the horizon where the sun is just about to disappear, its last rays painting everything in all the colors imaginable, golden, orange, rosé, violet... lavender. The air is loaded with the flowers' dizzying fragrance. Mac is standing beside me, in a white dress. The sunrays illuminate her face, seeming to create an aureole around her. She is smiling at me in a way that makes my heart race.  
  
If you'd like to spend the afternoon approaching Lavender You'll feel just fine but one thing's sure You'll never be the same If you'd like to try your hand at understanding Lavender Then you must be very sure That life is not a game  
  
It is true - I never was the same again after I'd first met Mac. That day changed my life. I sensed it then, I know it now.  
  
Understanding Mac is a different matter. I'm still working on it. But it's just as true - life is not a game anymore for me whenever she's involved.  
  
You might even learn a thing or two approaching Lavender You'll soon be on a one-night tour Forgetting your own name You won't need a reason just to be alone with Lavender For the light so warm and pure Will draw you like a flame  
  
Forgetting my own name. As I see her standing in my imaginary summer- evening scenery, I can feel it again: the paralysis. There's so much I want to say to her, but I can't. I can't find the words.  
  
Now, where did I hear these exact lines? These are the very words she said to me when I left to go back flying. Back then I had a lot to say to her, too, but I was too tongue-tied. As always.  
  
Fact is, I couldn't even say my name when we first met. But I'm definitely drawn to her, although I do need a reason to be alone with Mac. Or is it only my fear that keeps telling me that I do?  
  
The colors that surround you there will be the shade of lavender Shadows dancing everywhere Like flowers in the rain You will find your tongue's on fire while lying next to Lavender With words you never spoke before And will not speak again  
  
Oh, sweet Lavender, I understand you perfectly There is no way that I can see You living by yourself Oh, sweet Lavender, I must be with you constantly Your presence means so much to me Much more than life itself  
  
I wish I knew what it's like to be lying next to Sarah, but I do know what it's like to have the fateful words burning on the tip of my tongue. I should have told her long ago. She's with me everywhere I go. Why do I keep fighting the possibility that she might be with me for real if I just let her?  
  
Her presence is more important than life itself because without her, my life isn't whole. I really can't see her going on living by herself. And I refuse to picture her living with anyone other than me. So what now?  
  
The solution stands strikingly clear in front of my mind's eye. If I want her to be with me, I must finally let her know. Just as my dream alter-ego takes Sarah's hands, I wake in shock, understanding the extent of my cowardice.  
  
Oh, sweet Lavender, as fragrant as the name you bear Please cast away the clothes you wear And give your love to me Oh, sweet Lavender, your smile is like the golden sun I'd love to see you laugh and run As naked as the sea  
  
If you'd like to spend the afternoon approaching Lavender Don't try and get the best of her She will not share the blame If you'd like to try your hand at understanding Lavender Then you must be very sure That life is not a game There is no shame  
  
I have to put a stop to the constant flow of images that invade my head. One is more breathtakingly beautiful than the other but I'm at the verge of losing it completely. I'm scared of my turbulent state of mind and I'm trying hard to shut out the associations that the song keeps creating.  
  
Two thoughts are refusing to be chased, though.  
  
Sarah, give your love to me.  
  
You must be sure life is not a game.  
  
And suddenly, all pieces fall into place.  
  
Sarah L. Mackenzie  
  
It's time I made a confession.  
  
I know it's past 0500 but today is Saturday and this is too important to postpone it any further. I get up, hastily get dressed, grab my keys and leave. Outside, dawn has just begun to break.  
  
In the street, I stop and close my eyes. There's that fragrance again. Lavender. I realize the flower-shop is just getting a fresh delivery. Pulling a few dollars out of my pocket, I run over, place the bills in the hand of the completely startled owner, grab a small flowerpot full of minuscule violet blossoms and make a beeline for my car.  
  
Just a little later I'm standing in front of Mac's door, trembling. I swallow hard and ring the doorbell. A few minutes later, the door opens to reveal a tousled and shell-shocked colonel.  
  
"Harm, what..." She's too confused to finish her sentence and only stares at me.  
  
A white dress... God, she's wearing the white silk nightgown I know from Russia. The lump in my throat keeps growing.  
  
Say something, Rabb.  
  
Anything.  
  
Don't just stare at her.  
  
"What's your middle name, Mac?"  
  
Marvelous.  
  
Her jaw drops a little. "Uh... excuse me?"  
  
I cast her an embarrassed smile. Then I remember the flowers and hold them in her direction. Her eyes grow wide as she looks at them. Then she lifts her gaze to mine, astonished beyond belief. "Thank you... er... you all right, Harm?"  
  
Closing my eyes for a second, I finally manage to gulp down the lump in my throat and can face her openly. "What's your middle name?" I repeat gently. "I saw the 'L.' on the wedding invitation."  
  
"The wed..." Mac's voice is toneless. For a few seconds she continues staring at me. Then she shakes herself from her state of haze and fully opens the door. "Come on in."  
  
Smiling, I step past her and she closes the door again, hugging herself embarrassedly as she seems to become aware that she's wearing next to nothing. "You came all the way in the middle of the night just to bring me flowers and ask me about my middle name?" she says with a slight incredulous chuckle.  
  
Looking down at my feet, I can't fight the grin. "Yeah..." Sensing she needs some explanation, I lift my gaze to hers. "The 'L.' has kept me awake all night," I confess in a low voice. "I was wondering what it might stand for and why you never told me about it."  
  
"You've never mentioned your middle name either, Harm. Why should I?"  
  
"Touché." My smile broadens as I see that her expression has lit up, too. "It's because I don't like it too much."  
  
Her eyebrows rise and her smile gets a little challenging. "You first. You woke me up, remember?"  
  
I surrender to the sparkle in her eyes. "It's Bradley," I say.  
  
"Harmon Bradley..." she repeats to herself in a thoughtful voice, never taking her eyes off me. The way she says it, even my name sounds heavenly. "And what did you come up with in contemplating mine?"  
  
"Hey," I voice a weak protest, "I told you. Now it's your turn."  
  
"Louise," she complies with a lopsided smile. "My grandma."  
  
"Sarah Louise," I whisper as I see my own reflection in her dark eyes. "I thought it might be Lavender. You know, there's that song..."  
  
Setting the flowerpot down on the nearby table, she steps closer. "I know. It's always been one of my favorites. My mother once read me a story about a brave girl called Lavender. And that's why, when I was little, I always pretended I was called Lavender when we were playing being princesses."  
  
Her voice is barely more than a whisper when she continues. "And I kept telling my friends that one day, a prince would show up at my door, with lavender in his hands to show me how much he loved me, and he would ask me to come and live with him in his castle. Happily ever after."  
  
She's trembling now and her look conveys her fear.  
  
Be sure that life is not a game...  
  
I take her face in my hands and, shaking myself, place a tender kiss on her lips. "There's no way I can see you living by yourself," I tell her, grateful for help the lyrics provide. "I must be with you constantly because your presence means more to me than life itself."  
  
There's a tear rolling down her cheek but her smile is angelic.  
  
"Was that more or less how you pictured it?" I ask her softly, caressing the tear away.  
  
"Yes," she answers in a voice that's ringing with joy and doesn't leave a doubt about what this single word includes.  
  
As my emotions threaten to overwhelm me, I only draw her close and hold her tight for I don't know how long.  
  
Eventually, she pulls back a little and offers me a slight smile.  
  
"Harm?"  
  
"Hmm hmmm?"  
  
"You do remember the fifth stanza, don't you?"  
  
"Yeah, I do." It's the very one that's been driving me nuts ever since I set my eyes on that silk nightgown that barely hides her forms.  
  
"Do you mean that, too?"  
  
Good Lord... I only manage to nod slowly.  
  
"Then don't be afraid."  
  
The morning sun is shining though the half-closed blinds, its golden glow making the woman in my arms resemble the apparition of my dream. Only this is reality. And the last thing I notice before I lose myself in her embrace is that the color that surrounds us is indeed the shade of lavender.  
THE END 


End file.
